Neil Huntington was waiting in the lobby of the operations building. His suit was old and worn, and a little tight around the midsection.He had to dust off the shoulders this morning to make it a little more presentable. He tried to think back to how long ago it was since he last wore it.

Probably my wife’s wedding, he thought. That was just over twelve years ago. Five years after his marriage began. The same year he started with the Kansas City Police Department. It was looking like that was going to end as well.

Detective Platte came out into the lobby to greet Neil.

“Mr. Huntington, I’m Detective Nathan Platte. Come right this way.”

He led Neil through a secured door into the Internal Investigations office area. They went into a small conference room and sat on opposite ends of a small table.

“Neil, you understand that this will be recorded?” Detective Platte asked.

“Yes,” Neil replied.

“Well, we have thoroughly investigated the incident and there is no other witness to corroborate your story. Can you explain this?” He asked.

“Yes.The fictional event was unwitnessable. Therefore, there are no witnesses. And, it was five years ago, before we recorded all arrestee’s behavior while in the back of the cruiser. But you have my audio recording of the incident. Certainly that exonnerates me,” Neil said.

“The recording cannot be found.”

“So, there’s no evidence of wrong-doing?” Neil did not like where this was going.

“Here’s the thing, Neil.”

“Mr. Huntington,” Neil interrupted.

“Mr. Huntington,” Platte was annoyed now. “The department has had a bit of bad press lately. There have been ample charges of corruption and malfeasance. We have to take a hard-line with these types of cases to resecure the public’s trust.”

“Why? The public doesn’t like Deputy Chiefs hanging out with hookers in public bathrooms? Or administrative personnel accepting kickbacks from organized crime?”

“You are vested, Neil.”

“Mr. Huntington.” Neil was not happy. In this frame of mind he was annoying at best and intolerable at his worst. Because this had dragged on for so long, he was feeling somewhere in between.

“As I was saying, Mr. Huntington, you are vested. Were you to resign now, you could collect your pension. On the other hand, were you to fight this, a wrongful discharge, or worse, criminal charges could jeopardize that.” Platte was smiling back.

“Detective Fat,” Neil began.

“Platte.” He snapped.

“It sounds like you are threatening me. What if I wanted my lawyer to become involved?”

“You wouldn’t stand a chance. Who’s gonna believe an insubordinate cop under investigation? Besides, you’ll be one man without a job and alimony and child support to pay. We’re a public institution, we have unlimited resources. We’ll bankrupt you.” He sneered. “Just give it up.”

“And what if the paper got ahold of that little comment, Norton?” Neil mused.

“Nathan!” Platte screamed. “I never turned the recorder on, that was just to keep you in line.”

Neil pulled a digital recorder from his pocket.

“I did,” he remarked.

Platte lunged at the recorder, but Neil deftly avoided him and stood immediately. Neil pocketed the recorder.

“You don’t want to do that. I’ve been on the street for 17 years and you’ve been on your butt behind a desk,” Neil said.

“What do you want?” Platte asked dejectedly.

“Jeez, happy to know how quick you are to restore the public trust. I will resign and keep my pension. I’m not going to take any money from you. There may come a time in the future when I need information and I expect to get it from you. Understand?” Neil asked.

“Fine,” Platte said. “But I’ve got your badge and that’s all I really wanted in the first place.”

Neil nodded and walked over to Platte.

“That’s right, you do.” Neil took the badge off of Platte’s belt. “So, I’ll just borrow yours.” He breathed on the metal and polished it on his sleeve, smiling at Platte the whole time. Neil put the badge in his pocket and walked out the door.

Ed Chandler sat in his office which overlooked the entire city. He sat behind a fine cherry desk drinking a glass of scotch. A young woman came into the office, closed the door behind her, and placed a thin folder on the desk. Ed remained unmoved.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” She asked.

“Oh yeah,” he replied.

“Why?”

“I’m bored, Cindy.Ready for something a little more exciting than this.” He spun around.

“But you’re senior partner, and you’ve worked so hard,” Cindy paused, “really I just don’t want to work for old Mr. Schultz, which is where I’m sure to go.”

She sat in the chair in front of him.

“Rip Van Winkle? He’s okay. He just sleeps all the time. I swear. He sleeps in late everyday, gets here, nods off in our meetings, naps after lunch, then goes to bed early. I’ve never met anyone who sleeps as much as him,” Ed chuckled.

Ed pulled open his desk drawer and pulled out a small gift bag and handed it to Cindy. She accepted it as her eyes welled up with tears. She pulled out a small box and found a pair of perfect diamond studs inside.

“Oh my gosh, you didn’t have to.” She took out her earrings and replaced them with the studs, “They’re beautiful.”

“Those are for being a great assistant,” Ed said.

He set down his drink. The bag fell off the edge of the desk where she had placed it.  An envelope fell out and she bent down to retrieve it from the floor. She opened it and pulled out a check and stared at it. Then she looked up, and stared at Ed in shock.

“And that’s for ignoring all of my advances all these years. Although I don’t usually reward such behavior, you’ve rebuffed me with class and grace,” he smiled.

Cindy walked over to him and kissed him directly on the lips, seductively, as she climbed onto his lap.Ed pushed her away from his face gently.

“No, no, no, no, honey,” he pointed away from him, “that’s what the couch is for.”

He picked her up, her legs wrapped around him, and they continued kissing.

Neil looked up at the tall Hyatt Hotel. He was unshaven, wearing a faded baseball cap with sweat rings, and wrinkled clothes that looked like they have never been washed. He held the classifieds wedged under his arm and walked into the lobby. Neil asked the front desk attendant something and the man pointed towards the other side of the lobby.

Neil walked over and entered the small ballroom. Three rows of folding chairs were set up and all but one were empty. A long folding table was placed front and center of the non-existent audience. A banner hung from it: Private Detective Seminar. A thin, balding man stood behind it. He looked at Neil.

“Am I early?” Neil asked, walking toward the front.

“Actually,” the man said, “you’re ten minutes late.”

“Sorry, this is a little earlier than I’m used to,” Neil sat next to a man in the front row.

“It’s four in the afternoon,” The man jibed.

“Yeah, like I said.” Neil slouched comfortably in the chair. The man next to him was dressed well, but a little rigid.  Ed looked around at all of the empty chairs, rolled his eyes, then moved one more over to put a chair between them.

“What, do I stink or something?” Neil joked.

“Yes, you do,” Ed said plainly.

The man continued, “I’ll just give you guys all of the state forms and then you can ask me any questions you want,”he paused, “It seems I have forgotten one in the car, so if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right back.”

The man left the room and Neil stared at Ed. Ed was not amused.

“My name’s Neil Huntington, and you are?”

“Seriously, what is that smell?” Ed asked.

“C’mon, don’t be rude. I’m hungover,” Neil said.

“Oh, it’s your breath.”

Ed searched in his pockets and handed Neil a piece of gum.

“Hey thanks…” Neil fished.

“Ed. Ed Chandler.”

“See, that wasn’t so bad.” Neil slapped Ed’s arm and chewed the gum, throwing the wrapper on the floor. Ed sat in silence and continued to look forward.

“You know, I think we should work together, ” Neil said.

“No, I don’t think so,” Ed retorted.

“I knew that we should work together when I first walked in.”

“I’m the only one here,” Ed remarked.

Neil ignored him. “See, I’m gonna start my own firm, and you look like a smart fellow, so I says to myself, we would be a great team. You’re obviously a lawyer, probably corporate and I.P., you know how to research and work the system and I’m a cop- was a cop- and I got a lot of contacts…” Neil rambled.

“No I don’t think…how did you know I was a lawyer and what my specialty is?” Ed interrupted, confused.

“Fine threads befitting a man of stature, a watch that’s obviously not a knock-off, and that pen.”

He grabbed the pen from Ed’s breast pocket, “A businessman carries a ballpoint, a teacher carries a pencil, but a lawyer, a successful lawyer, carries a pen like it’s a goddamn samurai sword. This is Excalibur.”

Ed snatched the pen back, “Excalibur wasn’t a samurai sword. But I work well enough alone, thank you. You’re a keen observer but I don’t think I want to start up with an ex-cop. Excuse me, a disgraced ex-cop. So thanks, but no thanks.”

“Suit yourself, pal. Just trying to let you in on a great opportunity here: it’s not easy out there you know. This is a tough racket,” Neil said.

“I think I’ll take my chances, thanks,” Ed replied.

The man returned with another stack of forms and continued with his presentation, complete with Powerpoint. Neil grabbed up all the forms that he needed and walked out. Ed stayed after to speak with the man about some of the finer points of the business. He talked about statutory requirements and civil liability. After he was finished he put his papers in his briefcase and also left the hall.

Ed was somber. He wondered if he had done the right thing by leaving the firm. Well, he figured, I’ll still consult to support the new business. I don’t really need the money, but this seems like the kind of thing that could be exciting. He walked out of the building and down the street towards his car. Ed felt better about his decision, but a little down that there wasn’t someone to share in the adventures with him. He fished out his keys from his front pocket and disarmed his shiny Mercedes.

“Oh gimme a break!”

He set his briefcase down on the hood of the car. Both of the tires closest to the curb were flat, clearly intentionally. As he bent to look at the damage a thug came swiftly by and swiped the bag. He was gone by the time Ed turned around.

“Hey!” Ed exclaimed.

The thug turned around and flipped him off, smiling as he did so. When he turned around, he was coldcocked by Neil’s elbow. Whack! The thug sprawled flat on his back, hitting hard on the ground. Neil calmly stepped over the unconscious man and grabbed the briefcase. Ed was jogging towards him.

“Wow, thank you sir…oh it’s you. Well, my sincerest gratitude for your assistance, um…”

“Neil. Neil Huntington. The smelly idiot. Your’e welcome. Here’s your bag.”

“My tires…I turned around…and he bolted before I could react.”

“Yeah, it’s an old gag. Easy distraction technique. Someone pays some random guy to slash some tires on a rich man’s ride, then he jacks the bag when he’s not looking. I’ve seen it a hundred times. Well, take it easy Ed.”

Neil took his sunglasses from the pocket of his Hawaiian shirt, put them on, and started to walk away. Ed just looked at him and smiled. Then he looked at the thug rousing on the pavement and jogged over to Neil.

“Hey, Neil, wait up. Maybe I can repay you. Here’s my card, why don’t you come by the office and we’ll revisit your previous proposition,” Ed said.

“Over lunch?” Neil was quick: he looked at the card then placed it in his front pants pocket.

“Over lunch,” Ed relented. “All right then, I’ll see you around noon,” Neil smiled and shook hands with Ed.

Ed walked away towards his car. Neil whistled as he walked in the opposite direction. He reached back into his front pocket and pulled out a butterfly knife. He flipped it open and just as fancifully flipped it closed again. He put it back into his pocket and laughed quietly to himself.

Image Credit: Maarten Oerbekke